


Dragon

by DragonflyxParodies



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Because Harkon's a Dick, Crippling Self Worth, Dawnguard Hero Is Not The Dragonborn, F/M, Loyalty, Manipulative Serana, Priestess Serana
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:33:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22091887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonflyxParodies/pseuds/DragonflyxParodies
Summary: Not like a prayer. His touch was a prayer; and Serana has survived so many things. She will not lose this.
Relationships: Molag Bal & Serana, Serana/Original Male Character
Kudos: 5





	Dragon

**Author's Note:**

> Title from a 100 theme challenge i was doing at the time; enjoy!

The agony took her by surprise, mostly.

She had already known what his answer would be. But to see him, eyes uneasy, quietly tell her to tear his soul asunder rather than allow her to gift him with the power she had fought so hard to attain, hurt.

She knew it didn’t entirely have to do with how much she treasured his friendship. Although he was the only one she had ever spent time with that had not seen her as a tool or a means to an end since her parents had grown cold, the nature of what she was— _who_ she was—tempted her.

Yet, still, the breath was suddenly lost from her lungs, her heart torn from her chest.

XXXXXXXXXX

He held her while she sobbed, breaking down and collapsing as her home faded away in the distance behind them.

She’d clung to the idea that there was still something black-and-white in her world. Her father was a monster and had been for a very long time, but her mother had always shown her attention, care…what she’d thought was love.

She had been used her entire life, manipulated in ways she barely understood, and it was sickening to realize that Molag Bal had been the kindest to use her—and what he had done had been unspeakable.

She was a tool. Raised since she was small to worship a deity so absolutely she would agree to be a sacrifice, a lamb led to the slaughter, without ever questioning what was going on. Her mother and her father had thrown her headfirst into their little war the moment she was born, and when they’d used her to grow powerful their war had only escalated, so large now that it would take Tamriel down with them.

And, _oh,_ that made her furious.

So when he lay sleeping across a small, crackling fire, she left. Only for the night, only while he slept.

She was a Daughter of Coldharbour. That made her a priestess of Molag Bal, of the highest sort.

So she prayed that night, fresh blood and warm bodies her offering. She prayed for vengeance and future and hunger and safety, that the man who had become all to her in a so short a time earn her god’s blessings, to become _her_ Champion.

And he listened.

XXXXXXXXXX

“Is he right?”

Her words weighed heavy in the frigid air around them, and he paused, feet stalling. With Fort Dawnguard at their backs and Isran’s rage aching after them, she had come to her decision.

“….no.”

She stepped forward, silent as a shadow, and pressed her fingertips to the back of his neck. The shiver than ran down his spine, the gasp he let out at her touch, made her lips part into a smile.

“Why not?” Her voice was softer, huskier, as her lips brushed his ear. She could hear his heartbeat pick up.

She ran a hand down his back, pressing hard enough to be felt through the Dawnguard armor he wore, as she pressed herself to his back.

“…because I believe in you.” He reached around, pressed his hand gently to her hip. Comforting.

“I can’t take this, you know. Your kindness. I wasn’t made for that.” Her confession seemed to ground their world to a halt. The wind died, the cold disappeared. The bright of the sun faded away and all that was left were the two of them and the almost-tears burning her orbs.

“I’m not…kind. Your father…I won’t be able to kill him. I’m just…I’m just a man. If I were kind…”

“You’d what? Find someone you thought more capable?”

“Yes.”

“There is none. To kill him, maybe, but to save me? To trust me? To defend me? _Even_ with what I am?”

She couldn’t hide that desperate, agonizing fear in her eyes in time, when he turned to face her.

His touch was gentle, firm when he took her hands. Plaited their fingers together, and left them steepled between them like a prayer.

Not _like_ a prayer, but…it was.

“I didn’t join the Dawnguard because I hate vampires, Serana. And besides Isran’s people, I don’t think anyone else did either.” He said, and though his words were strong and his voice unwavering, his heartbeat was unsteady and his breathing shaky.

“I don’t blame them.” He knew. Nodded.

“I’m…I’m going to do this. And anything I need to do to do so…we’ll stop Harkon. And if Isran comes after you, we’ll stop him too.”

And when he tilts his head to the side, baring his throat to her, she felt her father – her _true_ father-‘s rumble of approval in her bones.


End file.
